Without You

WITHOUT YOU

It’s been a time without you

Yet at times you return.

You were my match, then shied away
Afraid, it seemed,
Of my love, my reality.

How I miss your touch, your scent,

You.

Gone.

128 days.

It is autumn now.

Now
Is supposed to be the dying time.

I am angry as I miss you,

Left to observe
Anniversaries
Of deaths in my life.

I listen to some music,

But alone is alone.

I required you, only you.

You, not fit enough to live.

“Where were you twenty years ago?”,
You asked, several times.

I answered.

How I miss your touch, your scent,

You.

Gone.

You could have tried harder to stay.

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